Whistler

You: What kind of favor?

Whistler: Nothin' dramatic - I wanna buy a weapon from Fisk, he's one of the peddlers at the market.

Whistler: Thing is, he won't sell it to me. It's a broadsword, with pretty ornaments.

Whistler: I can give you a hundred nuggs, then you go fetch that weapon for me, without a word about who sent you.

You: Okay, give me that ore. I'll fetch the sword for you.

Whistler: Good. Here you are - come right back once you have it.

You: Aren't you worried I'm just gonna take those nuggets and make a run for it?

Whistler: Sure, you could do that. Just keep in mind the Colony is a small place, and I know mean bastards everywhere.

You: Why won't he sell you that sword?

Whistler: Uh, we've had a little ... argument.

You: About what?

Whistler: None of your business.

You: Hey. I'm new here.

Whistler: What d'you want?

You: Just checking who around here could use a hand.

Whistler: Meanin', you wanna join up with us and are tryin' to kiss some arses.

You: I got your sword.

Whistler: Eh, wasn't too hard, was it? Anyway, one hand washes the other.

Whistler: If Diego asks what I think about you, you got me vote. Stay alive until then.

Whistler: Hmph. Look who's come. Thought you could just take me nuggets and leg it, eh? Come here, lad!

You: Fisk will sell me the sword, but he now wants a hundred and ten for it.

Whistler: Oh, And now you want another ten nuggets ...

You: Do you want the sword or not?

Whistler: Fine, here. Now make it snappy.

You: Fisk won't sell me that sword. Here are your nuggets.

Whistler: Bloody idiot ... we got no use for a fool like you. Sod off.

Whistler: Where exactly are me nuggs? 'Cause I ain't seein' none. Get 'em back, or you're in deep fuckin' trouble.

You: How's it going?

Whistler: Good. Like I said, one hand washes the other - Diego will only hear the best from me.